


Clear as Crystal

by theoraclespecialist



Category: Men's Football RPF, Original Work
Genre: British, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Football, Football | Soccer, Friends to Lovers, High School, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Sports, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 01:08:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20751821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoraclespecialist/pseuds/theoraclespecialist
Summary: When fifteen-year-old Jamie Richardson moves to London with his single dad Alex, he decides that he is going to try his hardest at passing as straight. The wounds of his previous school are not to follow him, most certainly, not under any condition conceivable.  But being fifteen is quite an immense challenge to undergo in the first place: developing crushes on straight boys way beyond his league, meeting belligerent girls refusing to keep their hands off him and trying to balance his science-heavy interests against what is considered cool in year eleven.Does Jamie have a chance? Mother Monster could never tell.





	Clear as Crystal

On the night before his first day at the new school, Jamie Richardson typed into Google:  _ how to dress like a straight man _ , and dashed to find similar, if not the same, pieces of clothing in his closet. Yes, he owned a flannel shirt and a sports cap, but he doubted whether any of his denim was baggy enough. He needed to be able to disappear into his pair of jeans and right now, his collection in the closet was hardly cutting it. 

He wished he could disappear into himself too but that wouldn’t make him any straighter. 

Jamie ultimately went with a black t-shirt that surprisingly still fit him, considering he had gotten it five years ago and he was supposed to be exploding through puberty into a fine, dashing young man. Yet he labelled his gradual, barely-noticeable growth as more of a “blossoming”; something that is tender, beautiful and ultimately more rewarding than a lanky physique with limbs that twisted out of proportion. 

For fuck’s sake. This sort of language was not going to make him pass as straight. So Jamie just tried to relax for the rest of the night, even though that pit in his stomach only kept stretching and stretching. He has never  _ not _ had this pit in his stomach in the nights before school, so it is hardly shocking that it followed him to London. However, he finally had a chance to be different at his new school: think differently, act differently, dress differently, do differently. 

He was thumbing through an old edition of Discover and listening to the soothing sounds of blackbirds and wrens in his playlist (something that he would promptly delete in the morning, he told himself) when his dad, Alex, minced into his room, shutting the door his way in. 

Jamie pushed himself up by his elbows and sat up straight, facing him yet his eyes drawn down. “What?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing,” he pulled up the chair by the desk. “Just wanted to know how you were feeling,”

Jamie bit into his lip. He wished he had it in himself to unload everything onto his father: the feelings, the fears, the insecurities, the pains, and the smidgen of excitement that found its way up somehow. Instead, he just replied with a shrug. The non-committal, uninterested, endlessly passive shrug.

Alex chuckled. “What, you don’t feel anything? Already become a robot from your magazines?” he pointed his head towards the  _ Discovery _ on Jamie’s bed. “Well, I guess, that’s what I get from moving a teenager to a new city and a new school,”

Jamie gave in to a smile. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly.

Alex nodded, leaned in and placed his hand on his son’s knee. “I know, mate,” he said. “Me too. But you know something? We’re going to get through it, okay,” he sighed. “Just know that, as long as you’re yourself, you are going to make a horde of friends. And not just friends that egg you on to drink six pints in six minutes and then later shag your bird when you’re too shitfaced to notice,”

Jamie grinned, even though his heart nearly sank at his dad’s words. 

“And it’s not gonna be like Atherstone. All sorts of cliques and groups at these schools, innit?”

Jamie shrugged. “I’m not sure,”

Alex laughed and tightened his grip on Jamie. “Just don’t worry, okay? The Richardson men never balk or flinch, yeah?” He stood up and leaned down to kiss his son on the head. “Now get to bed early, you. The longer you’re awake, the more scared you’re going to get,”

“Well, the fears don’t subside during sleep. They lie somewhere in your subconscious state,” Jamie pointed out, even though his dad was hardly going to care. 

“Oh well, keep on with your dolphin sounds, then,” 

His dad left the door slightly ajar on his way out, and Jamie collapsed onto his back again. The ceilings were nicer in this flat, high and smooth. None of the cracks and cobwebs he had gotten used to in their old house back in Atherstone. It didn’t matter, though. They might have more space for themselves now, but somehow the loneliness had increased exponentially. And Jamie knew it probably wasn’t going to get any better, but at least he had a new chance. A fresh path of reinvention. 

He knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep that night, and the bustle of the city made sure of it. First of all, they lived in a flat, so he was already familiar with the various noises made by neighbours. The newborn baby howling through the night, like an alpha laying her claim on the territory. The eight-year-old who was recently given a basketball and was not afraid to practice till it cracked a permanent hole into the residents’ sense of quiet. The couple next door arguing viciously one minute, making love the next. The pub two buildings down that threw out rowdy men and women and left them plastered and raucous throughout the streets all night. 

The next morning, Jamie could barely bite into his apple without feeling the pit in his stomach rattle. He wasn’t even going to make it through the car ride. His dad insisted on dropping him, even though it would have only taken twenty minutes to walk, and seven to catch the tube. The traffic situation outside the school was not helping either. 

“You’d be okay if I drop you off here?” Alex asked, popping his head out the window to evaluate the state of traffic. 

“I’d prefer it,” said Jamie. He unbuckled his seatbelt and waited as his dad pulled up to the curb. 

Jamie pushed the door open but before he could step out, his dad reached towards him. “Won’t you give your daddy a kiss?”

Jamie grit his teeth. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t get smart, you’re only fifteen!” 

Jamie rolled his eyes and pecked his dad on the cheek. “And you are the worst,” he hissed under his breath. 

Having been in a boys’ school in Atherstone, he simply was not accustomed to seeing boys and girls openly loitering and fraternizing by the school entrance. Additionally, having grown up in a town that was, well. strictly rural and old-fashioned, he was not used to seeing so many different kinds of faces, either. Faces that ranged from black to white, and everything in between. Hairstyles that ranged from black to white, and pink and blue and orange highlights for fun. It was dazzling, and Jamie let himself imagine that he could fit in after all. 

He picked up his schedule from the administration office from a petite lady with round glasses. She seemed overly kind as if she knew that he was going to get wrecked his first day of school. “Don’t forget to sign up on the activity sheet!” she notified, as he exited the office. 

The hallways were a whirlpool of bodies, slamming against each other, cuddling, canoodling, wrestling, leaning. It was nearly impossible to take two free steps without knocking into someone. But thankfully, outside of a few annoyed looks here and there, no one shoved against him and called him a faggot. But Jamie knew: it was a matter of when not if. 

He looked down at his schedule, bringing up the crisp paper closer to his face. He was to attend Geography at R230 or was it R238? Before he could decipher the faded print, he was shouldered off his stance by a girl scurrying through, his paper blowing off into the lockers nearby. 

“Watch it, fuckface!” The girl shouted as she disappeared into the crowd, her blonde hair flowing through all the obstacles. 

Jamie leapt forward for his schedule, already dreading the reaction of whomever he would be inconveniencing. It landed on the shoulder of a brown-haired girl in conversation with two of her friends; she promptly turned around and wrinkled her forehead at him. “This yours?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jamie said, escaping the rush of the crowd to get closer to her.

He was about to grab it back from her hand but she peered over the paper. “You new here?”

“Um, yeah,” he muttered. Not only was he sure that he would be late to his first class, doubling the amount of attention directed at him, but that he would now be humiliated in front of this girl and her friends for being a hapless klutz. 

“You a Brummie?”

“Um, from close to Warwick,” he revealed self-consciously. 

“Oh!” She turned around and eyed her friends, and they must have spoken in a code language because not a single word was uttered. “That will do. Let me take you to your class….” she looked at the paper. “James…”

“I prefer Jamie,” he gulped. 

She smiled widely. “Simone,” She extended her hand. 

Jamie examined it curiously, knowing that he couldn’t possibly have made a friend so quickly so easily. But he didn’t want to seem suspicious of friendship, even though it very much was the ghost that eluded him. Something that had eluded him for most of his life. 

Jamie shook her hand. 

Simone beamed smugly. “Well now, I don’t plan on kidnapping you now, so you better trust me,”

Jamie chuckled, unaware of how to respond. Maybe he was going to have to take a chance then. 

Simone led him through the slowly emptying hallways, through the stairways and past the barely visible classrooms, by the courtyard and the staff lounges, into the third floor of one of the buildings. She checked his schedule again and confirmed that they were to meet for Biology again in the fifth period but before that she demanded that he find her table during lunch. 

“Normally, the girls and I would prefer to practice for Phantom but...since you’re the new chap around, you can  _ sit  _ with us,” she said, as she collapsed her body against the wall. Her grin was subtle but knowing, as though she knew that her words held power, her stance authoritative. 

“Ehm...yeah, of course, I’ll…” Jamie sputtered as he caught a peek of the classroom in which he was supposed to enter. The students were already seated, the teacher had already started her lesson, reading through a textbook on the projector. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Simone said as she strutted down the hallway, disappearing into a corner. 

Although the interruption into the ongoing geography class was awkward, Jamie had managed to have a decent, although unremarkable, first half of the school day. He’d flitted in and out of the focus, floating by as everyone rushed past him into their known circles and cliques. The groups were of the age-old familiar types: the popular football players, the girls from the dance team, the uptight prefects, the sloppy stoners, yes, of course, the clueless nerds. Those things never changed, no matter where he went. 

However, the diverse flavour of London climbed its way to the surface when he absorbed the dining hall after picking up his lunch of a ham sandwich, an apple and chocolate milk. His gaze panned across the hall, taking in the various social groups with which he was not as acquainted. Outside of the usual suspects, not a single trait was common among the groups. Not by appearance at least. The trumpet lad sat with a guy in dreadlocks. The pink-haired goth girl exchanged crisps with the skateboarder. The metalhead laughed at the jokes being cracked by the chemistry boy in a lab coat. 

It was bizarre and before Jamie could add a mental note, a voice called out his name across the room to his left. He spotted Simone and his chest filled with relief. Her beckoning wave may have saved him a lifetime of humiliation and agony. At least for a day. 

“I saved you a seat right ...here!” She presented the beige plastic chair proudly. 

Jamie nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed and confused by all the outpouring of friendliness. The two friends sat at the table were the same ones from the corridor in the morning: an East-Asian girl with long hair and a nose ring, and a wide-chested blonde girl with bouncy curls. 

“Okay, so these are my mates, Lena…” Simone pointed her head at the East-Asian girl, who nodded amicably. “And Clara,” The blonde one smiled, her thin lips stretching up to her ears. 

“So Jamie, Si told us you’re fresh blood from up north,” Clara said. 

Jamie nodded, biting into his dry sandwich. Okay, so he was yet another new kid. What was so earth-shatteringly unbelievable about that? Unless this really was an elaborate prank to befriend and then harass him repeatedly. Which he should have figured out all along. 

“Y’know, you’ve got a look about ya,” Simone said. “Something so innocent and kind and lost...like one of those poems we read from Yeats the other day?”

“Oh, which one?” asked Jamie curiously. 

“Trees or summat, doesn’t matter,” She shrugged off. “Either way, I didn’t want to see a delicate flower like you blow through the dusty winds of Albert Thomas Academy,”

“Um, thanks, I guess…” He sipped his chocolate milk, trying to fill himself up with food so he wouldn’t have to worry about making conversation. 

“Anyway, the girls and I are part of the school theatre this year, ya know?” Clara announced enthusiastically, tucking her curls behind her ears. 

“I’m just the stagehand though,” Lena interjected. 

“Yeah, whatever!” Simone countered. “That’s still part of the theatre. I mean, if someone isn’t shining a light, how do I shine so bright?”

“Oh, fuck’s sake Simone, we’ve heard that too many times before!” Clara laughed, slightly shoving at her friend in the shoulder. 

“Also, wildly inaccurate. I’m not part of the light crew either,” Lena clarified, seeming increasingly sarcastic. “If you can’t tell, she’s a little...up in her asshole,” she muttered carefully at Jamie. 

Jamie chuckled. He certainly didn’t envision his first day like this----eating lunch with three beautiful, amusing girls and watching them banter off each other for his entertainment, but it’s certainly better than his completely rational fears of being pushed into the toilet, wedged up against lockers and being inked with nasty slurs. But he had to breathe, enjoy this moment while it lasted instead of conjuring all the many ways it could go topsy-turvy. 

“So Jamie, what are your interests like? Something that riles you up outside the usual?” asked Clara, her eyes twinkling. 

Jamie looked at the other two inquisitive faces around the table. “What do you mean?”

“A hobby or something, mate?” clarified Lena. “It isn’t rocket science, y’know?”

“Well, it kinda is…” said Jamie. “Uh...rocket science I mean,”

Lena wrinkled her forehead and exchanged glances with Simone. So Jamie cleared his throat and added, “I love space,”

Simone spoke up. “What are you saying, mate?”

“I mean, uh…” Jamie hesitated. “I like planets and stuff. I love reading up about space technology and how our world is...uh, finding new information about all these stars, and uh...planets, comets, you know...stuff like that,” 

Jamie swallowed as he watched the girls eye each other blankly, probably realizing that they have found for themselves a social irredeemable burden. Jamie continued chewing, his head bowed. He always ruined it for himself. He knew he could lie about his 

“Right,” said Lena. “Very well, then. Tell us why Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore,” 

Jamie had to clench his mouth so he would not break out into a giant, jovial smile. “Oh, wow, I didn’t think you’d be interested.” Jamie took a deep breath. “Okay, so, while Pluto does orbit around the sun and it has an adequate amount of mass to fulfil some sort of a hydrostatic equilibrium, it has not become gravitational dominant, so it has other celestial bodies around it of comparable size and all that, so what you have at the end of the day is a ‘dwarf’ planet. Just a tiny old shithole kicked out of the adults’ table,”

Simone laughed, tapping her hand lightly against Jamie’s shirt. 

“You’re a little nerd, aren’t you?” Clara laughed, seeming a little impressed even. “Uhh...I guess I’d been looking for a tutor now,”

“Sure, I can see what I can do,” he replied. 

“You’re so confident, mate,” Lena remarked. “Like you know all the subjects by heart, which I’m sure is not the case, so.”

The rest of the conversation ensued smoothly as Jamie began feeling more comfortable with the girls. It helped that he had revealed a major aspect of his “weakness”, which was his fondness for subjects deemed uncool and trivial and absolutely unnecessary by the rest of the youth in his year, and the girls had accepted it wholeheartedly. Unless this was all a farce---a barbarous hypothetical that crawled in his subconsciousness. 

Simone also accompanied him to his first class post-lunch break. It was English Literature, and he felt a little overconfident at possibly coming across the same swath of literature that he had spent his sick days reading. However, the point to be noted was that he had taken far too many sick days than was normal, but that is what occurs when bullies hunted down the small gay boys every day and the school carried on blind. 

“I’ll see you at the entrance after school, yeah?” Simone stated as she sashayed away to catch up with another friend by the water filter. It wasn’t so much a proposal or request rather than a definitive statement to which no one can object. Perhaps Jamie was going to have to get used to all the demandingness and self-importance if he was to have a single friend at ATA. 

The classroom was packed with a broad range of students, more raucous than usual. Jamie figured it must have been an elective or something because the popular athletes were snogging the dance team like the world belonged to them. Definitely not the sort of class where the students would make an effort, study hard and actually look back on their exams as if they meant anything more than a requirement for their GCSEs. 

Jamie scuttled past the crowd, loud boys and girls whom he could not even look in the eyes lest they detect him as the pathetic new kid he was, and took a seat near the back of the class. He observed the group after taking out his notebook and straightening up his stationery. 

Fucking gorgeous, the lot of them. The busty girl wearing red-hot lipstick. The tall boy of probable Spanish origin whose arms contained veins sliding toward the oceans. The sweet boy laughing and making others laugh, leaning against the desk, his hair seeming both slick and loose. The girl with fishnet stockings, legs that captivated the entire room. The boy wearing the coolest sports sweater Jamie had ever laid his eyes on. They were undoubtedly the most attractive, appealing and prominent crowd in the classroom, if not the entire school. 

The tall boy was recounting some holiday adventure that took place in Portugal, involving family massages, chicken stew and some Instagram mishap, and the others were doubled over laughing. Jamie couldn’t shy away his gaze from the guy with the hair, who took every opportunity to banter off his friends. Jamie knew he was obvious so he made sure to look away every few seconds, pretending to write on his notepad. 

The next time Jamie looked up at him, he looked back. A short glance, something barely noticeable to anyone, yet Jamie’s heart pulsed harder than it had the entire day. Then the boy turned away, and that was that. Jamie sighed in defeat: if only he got through one day without developing an infatuation for another straight guy. What an utter moronic cliche. His expectations were fulfilled when the teacher entered the classroom and that boy departed the circle by kissing the girl in the stockings. 

Of course. No surprises there. 

He went around the desk and took a seat diagonally across Jamie, situated in the perfect position so Jamie could watch him comfortable without having to rotate his head or anything like that. 

“Good afternoon,” The teacher was a short, balding man wearing a light blue shirt and a white sweater, even though it was a moderately sunny March afternoon. He looked closer at a sheet brought along by him. “I believe we have a new student among us today...Mr. James Richardson.”

Jamie sank in his seat. 

He didn’t even have to raise his hand or confirm his presence with a nod; the teacher spotted him near the back and smiled. “Aaah, there you are,” 

The entire class turned to him and Jamie wished a meteorite would just rocket into the classroom and blow this earth off its axis. Even the cute boy sat by stared at him, although Jamie wouldn’t dare to inspect his expression right now. 

“Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“Uhh…” Jamie tapped his feet in nervousness. What more introduction would the teacher need outside of his name? Jamie cleared his throat. “Hello, I’m Jamie. Uh, I’m from close to Warwick and...uh, hello,”

The teacher waited to see if Jamie had anything else to say but realized that it was clearly going to take a mountain to get Jamie to drop anything remotely interesting about himself. “Okay, very well...see me after class so we can catch you up on the reading,” he said, before turning to his book. “Now everyone, let’s turn to page 45 from where we left off last time. Any volunteers here?”

As usual, there was some overachieving girl with the perfect hair and the most perfect enunciation who raised her hand. The reading went on, and Jamie relaxed a little bit, knowing that the spotlight had shifted and by now he was as insignificant as he had been before. They were reading The Great Gatsby, something Jamie had read when he was thirteen but had not understood much of its meanings and contexts. 

The lad with the hair was trying to signal something amusing to his friend across the room, something goofy, his smile lighting up his chiselled face.  _ Stop it _ , Jamie instructed himself. 

“Is something funny, Mr. Pearce?”

The boy froze and straightened up. “Just the spring blues, Sir,”

The entire class chuckled, and the teacher looked irritated. “Very well. In that case, would you like to enlighten me as to how you perceive the relationship between Daisy and her husband, Tom?” 

The boy gulped and lowered his head, trying to imbibe any information he could from his copy of the book. “Uhm...I see that...Daisy is…” 

He was stammering. Jamie found it absolutely adorable although he was mortified on the boy’s behalf; if he was caught in a similar situation, then he certainly would not be able to manoeuvre himself through this sticky situation. He certainly didn’t have the social support to help him bounce back either. 

“I think we get the picture,” The teacher said, putting a stop to the awkward babbling. He leaned forward and looked at the boy sternly. “You need to be doing better, Nathan. I know your head is all about football but if you want to have a shot at your GCSEs, you need to put in more of an effort,” 

Nathan nodded, seeming quite embarrassed by the teacher’s statement. It was a moment that Jamie had seen many of his classmates go through previously but never had to experience for himself because he prepared his reading exclusively to not be snagged by his teachers. The rest of the class was rather smooth, as Jamie took the time to observe and absorb his classmates, their traits, their quirks, their behaviours, their mannerisms---anything that could help him defend himself against unfair treatment or attention in the future. 

As class dismissed, Nathan Pearce met up with his friends and laughed, swear words of relief erupting through their mouths. It was a good thing the teacher was preoccupied with another student to notice or care. The girl with the stockings placed her thin arm around Nathan’s waist and pulled him closer to her. These city girls were so elegant and dainty, making every gesture and movement count towards building their image. 

By the last class, Jamie couldn’t stop thinking about Nathan Pearce’s soft, thin lips and how they parted when he felt pressured to come up with a response to the teacher’s question. How his eyes hurriedly raked over the text. 

Jamie couldn’t believe himself. His efforts at not being gay were simply not working, and if someone caught him being weird or too obvious, then he was done for. Thankfully, he didn’t have to spend too long of a time sweating over that because Simone found him after school and launched into a rant about some girl that was mean to her in Chemistry class. 

They were walking out of the premises when Jamie stopped in his tracks and eyed Simone. “Where are we going?”

“Your place, obviously,” she answered, very straightforwardly. 

Jamie found this suspicious but he raised no concerns. He supposed that if he really wanted to make a friend, he had to go with the flow and just let Simone control the wheels here. Although the thought of Simone being either a product of his imagination or a serial killer did float by his mind a few times here and there. 

Simone talked about anything and everything---from the most minute school gossip to what she thought about the latest pop culture feuds dominating the new cycles to how her mom got on with the neighbours to how her cat dealt with the weather, her breathing did not fluctuate and her mouth kept running. It was frankly remarkable but Jamie also wondered whether this was simply foreshadowing as to how their friendship would be shaped. Simone, as the self-assured chatterbox, blathering away, as Jamie agreed as her customizable echo chamber. 

“Are ya listening to me?” she asked, when she had noticed that he had stopped nodding or responding with affirmatives. 

Jamie glanced back at her. “Yup, yup,” he said absent-mindedly. 

“You are not!” she smiled. Jamie didn’t bother fighting her on it, so she said, “I guess this is what I get for trying to allow another boy to get to know me,” 

“I do want to get to know you,”

“Sure, of course,” she rolled her eyes. “Alright, it’s only a matter of time, you know. There is no one who can resist the gossip I peddle on a daily basis,”

Jamie chuckled. “Is that a challenge? Because I can assure you that at the moment I know nothing of which you speak,”

“But hey, you’re still around, so I guess I’ve caught your attention some way,” she said, seeming pleased. 

They reached the flat after twenty minutes and Jamie fished out the key from his backpack. Simone gazed at the size of the flat lobby, her eyes twinkling, her mouth agape. “This is where you live?”

“Um...yes,” Jamie said, as he pressed the lift button. 

It was a neat lobby, he had to admit. Far fancier than any place he had ever lived. The beige walls looked fresh, tidy. The vase sat on the table was immense and well-kept; the flowers carefully chosen and compiled in accordance to colour, type and shape. The floors were glinting off the warm lights from the ceiling, the marble tiles smooth enough to present reflections of the people standing above. Two comfortable chairs placed on either side of the table with the vase, their cushions embroidered with ornate, delicate designs, seeming like it belonged to a palace, not a flat building. 

“You didn’t tell me you was rich!” griped Simone, as they got into the lift. 

“I’m not rich,” 

“Yeah, right,” she snorted. “Said every rich person ever,”

“Well…I’m not denying it, but…”

“You just denied it,”

“Fine,” he relented. “But this is all very recent, okay. And besides, we live in London, having a two bedroom flat is hardly considered rich here,”

“What, your dad is a drug dealer or something?”

“He is a lawyer. He got offered a job at a firm here, that’s why we moved from Warwick,”

They reached the third floor and stepped onto the soft, brown-carpeted floor, the kind that could withstand a copious amount of movement but won’t let out a single decibel of sound. Each floor only held two flats, which lay on opposite ends, leaving a whole lot of room in between. Upon entering inside the flat, Simone eyed the spacious living room, the gleaming new furniture and the impeccable tiles, and Jamie just let her have the moment wordlessly. But then she looked confused, her forehead furrowed. “Is no one around? Is it empty?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Jamie said, dropping his bag. 

She peered at the closed doors across the living room and then at the open kitchen. “So we have this place all to ourselves?” she asked, a glint in her eye. 

“Uh, yeah…” Jamie answered incredulously. 

“Alright then, take me to your room,”

Jamie wanted to protest but seeing how he had already let a stranger inside his flat, he had no choice but to make the most of the opportunity. Even if it meant exposing his room full of eccentric interests and dorky paraphernalia to a seemingly shallow shell of a girl. 

Jamie had barely had time to unpack and organize but that didn’t stop Simone from being stunned by his lengthy book collection. Books belonging to multiple types of genre, form, authors, time periods and subject matter were tucked into the shelves. Some worn-out, some exquisite but all of them equally as meaningful and profound as the other. Outside of the literature, his wall was adorned with posters and clippings from Discovery and Scientific American, just clipped up carelessly by his desk. A DNA model consisting of old ping pong balls laid by the bed while a large hand-drawn diagram of the sun and mood was placed on the wall by the rocking chair. If he tried to be a bigger nerd, he would probably be dead. 

“You’re probably thinking of leaving,” Jamie said, as he watched Simone inspect the items in his room with curiosity. 

“No, of course not,” she smiled. She flicked the ping pong balls, and they rattled in place. “Maybe girls like smart boys,” 

“Not the ones I’ve met,” 

She turned around and bit her lip. “You don’t know us girls, then,” 

“I never claimed to,”

Simone laughed, as she looked closer into his eyes. “You’ve got really pretty eyes, you know,”

Jamie gulped, trying to draw away. He looked away and breathed harder, hoping that Simone knew how to take a hint. “You, too,” he said hesitantly. 

He unwisely decided to close his eyes for just over a second, and this let Simone grab him by the shoulders and stab his mouth with her lips. She moved ferociously, as Jamie froze in place, his eyes wide open. He opened his mouth just a little bit to breathe but that caused her to dip further inside. Perceiving his lack of response as reciprocation, she pushed him towards the bed. He was struggling, scraping at her arms but it was not working. His lips felt like they were being wiped out, bit by bit. When Simone snuck her hand underneath his shirt, Jamie jolted upward, accidentally sending Simone crashing to the floor. 

“Owww,” she cried, rubbing her shoulder. “Are you schizo? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jamie stared at his feet, mortified. His lips were parted but he couldn’t get the words out. Simone looked terrifying, her eyes glaring. 

“Jeeez, mate, if you weren’t feeling it, you could’ve told me,”

“It’s not that,” Jamie grabbed the pillow from behind him, pressing into it with his elbows. “Um,” his breath hitched. “You know how you said I don’t know girls…”

“Yeah…” she responded in annoyance. “Wait,” Her eyes flashed through confusion to anger to recognition, and then finally conveyed some form of understanding. “Oh,”

Jamie nodded, hoping it was obvious to her as it was to him. A few seconds of silence wormed between them, as Simone gathered herself. “Well, thanks for that,” she caressed her shoulder once again. 

“I’m sorry,” Jamie grinned. “Even my closet has a door,”

Simone shook her head. “Can’t believe I was about to lose my virginity to a gay boy,”

“Virginity?!” he exclaimed. 

She turned away indignantly. “Okay, you were kinda cute, yeah? I can say that right?”

“Thank you for that. At least someone finds me hot,”

“I said cute, not  _ hot _ ,” she clarified jokingly. Jamie laughed back. However awkward things had gotten a little while back, this was nice. Unexpected but nice. “Besides, don’t you worry. There was probably enough closet cases at our school to be salivating at the sight of you,”

“Is it that obvious that I’m...gay?”

“Clearly not. Fooled me, as you could very well see,”

Jamie lowered his head, trying not to grin. He knew he should be feeling a little honoured by the achievement, seeing how he had planned and prayed for this ability to pass as straight. And the fact that he had seemed appealing to a beautiful woman, and had gotten her in his bed through no effort of his own was certainly a huge boost to his confidence. Perhaps some extra brownie points for his social status. 

“So do you want me to stay or leave?”

Jamie shrugged. “I mean, do I have any value outside my cock?”

Simone laughed, a full, open-mouthed laugh, the kind Jamie had not seen from her the whole day. “Not sure, mate,” she said. She stood up and began running her fingers down the books in his shelf. “You know, being in this room, it doesn’t feel gay at all,”

“What were you expecting?” Jamie said, shifting inward, putting his feet up. “Rainbow flags all over the walls? Posters of Zac Efron? My dad doesn’t know, okay,”

Simone turned back, her hair whipping back dramatically. “So you can really tell him that you scored a bird on your first day?”

“I don’t think he’d believe me in a million years.” said Jamie. “Besides, he’s a tad over-protective,”

“Oh well,” Simone sat back down. “Do you at least have impeccable fashion sense?”

“It’s a negative on that one,” countered Jamie. “Do you want to see my closet? I have a million plain blue tees and that’s it,”

“Mate…” Simone said sternly, her dark eyes cutting into his. “Is there anything at all gay about you at all?”

“That’s a moronic thing to say, you know?” Jamie protested. 

“You have ten seconds before I head out,”

Jamie had to concede and sign in to his Spotify account to play Lady Gaga’s sensational Monster album. Jamie absolutely abhorred how those beats turned him into such a flamboyant maniac, pushing his hands and arms to slide and curve and dash like they have never done before. And when Simone belted out the chorus in ‘Bad Romance’, Jamie knew he had made the right choice to reveal his true gay tendencies. 

The hours slipped under their fingers as they rollicked among the most iconic discographies of the 2000s, gabbing away about culture, people, fantasies, dreams and nightmares. Simone was dabbing nail polish on Jamie’s middle finger when a knock interrupted their spree. 

Alex smiled in amusement. “Hey...Jaime. I didn’t know you’d brought home...friends,” 

Simone leapt up from the bed and skipped to the door. “Hi, my name is Simone. Jamie is such a lovely fellow, taken the entire school by storm,”

Alex turned to Jamie incredulously, his eyebrows wiggling. “Is that so?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Jamie said. 

“Oh well, nice to meet you, Simone. I’m Alex but you can call me Mr. Richardson,”

Simone beamed proudly as she shook his hand. “You’ve got such a lovely home. Jamie should definitely throw a party here soon, no?”

“Uh, I don’t know about that. But I suppose it’s nice to have friends and such here,” replied Alex, still a bit bemused by Simone’s intrusive politeness. “Oh well, I’ll leave you two kids now, with the door...uh, open, of course,” he said awkwardly, faltering back towards the living room. 

Simone turned around, her mouth wide-open, impressed. “Mate, your dad is hot!” she whispered. 

Jamie shook his head in disappointment, trying his best not to cringe. “I swear to God, if you mention that again, I’m never sitting with you again,”

“Yeah, sure, you’re not going to find another girl to do your nails, are you?”

Jamie reluctantly nodded and let her finish his nails off in a scintillating finish of blue. It was full, gleaming and absolutely glamorous. Jamie couldn’t be more in love with it. Simone gazed down at her work with utmost gratification. He turned to her and smile, thinking that regardless of what could happen in the future, he at least had the most gorgeous set of hands anyone could boast in all of London.    
  
  


  
  
  
  
  



End file.
